


Spellbound

by SeasonalTea



Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Anyways I love Limbo thank you DW for this monstrosity, Gender-neutral Reader, I did a shit ton of research for the scenario and it only contributed to like half a paragraph lmao, It reads so sweetly without my chosen bgm until the end wow, Light wounds are inflicted because fangs and claws yknow, Limbo uses he/him tho jsyk, Multiple Orgasms, No descriptive blanks, Non-master reader, Oh ya and gender-neutral Ritsuka I forgot this tag, Other, Overstimulation, Porn With Plot, Servant Reader, Sex-Neutral Reader, With Ritsuka Mash and Lily Vinci as supporting cast lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:28:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28006944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeasonalTea/pseuds/SeasonalTea
Summary: That day you asked to be his apprentice, you offered your soul to a devil.  That day he accepted your request, he took it for himself.Little did you know just how deep this relationship would run.
Relationships: Ashiya Douman |Alter Ego/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 74





	Spellbound

**Author's Note:**

> Screams a bunch as I finally finished this after like a week. I had been waiting for Limbo's release for like a whole year and it finally happened bless the gacha gods. To celebrate, here's a stupidly long thing that has about 4 hours of research into Ashiya Douman behind it only for me to learn that there is almost nothing known about him, even when searching in Japanese. A lot of my info and interpretations are pulled from his rivalry with Abe no Seimei and the "Ashiya Douman Oouchi Kagami" kabuki.
> 
> I did learn that he stole Abe no Seimei's wife before killing the guy tho lmao.
> 
> Anyways, please listen to "[Burn me to the ground](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hbo9S6gLN3c&ab_channel=Ugropnz)" from the Arknights OST for this if you really want to set the mood.
> 
> Do note, that the reader calls Limbo 師匠 (shishou) = master/teacher. To distinguish this from the Servant form "Master", the reader calls Ritsuka specifically "my Master". Limbo refers to the reader frequently as [拙僧の]愛しい弟子 ([sessou no] itoshii deshi) = [this humble priest's/my] dear disciple. I alternated between that and "little apprentice" as a translation.
> 
> Okay, as usual, hope you enjoy!

Heat from the pure energy before Ritsuka warmed their skin. Flashes of electricity and light blinked in and out of existence as magical power concentrated above Mash’s shield. When the thrumming of hastened air started to die down, a single figure was suspended above the relic before slowly levitating their way onto solid footing to stand before humanity’s last Master.

“Still your heart, empty your mind, and calm your soul. I offer my humble greetings, my Master. I am but a Servant—Caster, if you will.”

“Nice to meet you, Caster,” Ritsuka greeted in kind.

“Ah, wait, I’m supposed to also tell you my True Name! How forgetful of me,” you realised with a disappointed sigh before perking back up to return the human’s smile and introduce yourself properly.

The Master blinked at you curiously before turning to the young woman beside him. Her pastel hair swayed as Mash shook her head to Ritsuka’s silent question. Before you could interject with your own curiosity, the heavy metal doors to the summoning room creaked as they slid open.

“So, so? Did it work?” Da Vinci called as she bounced in with bubbling energy befitting her childish form.

“Um, well…” Ritsuka hesitated as they glanced between you and the other new arrival, much to your rising confusion. Quickly, the Master introduced you to the Chaldean Servant. “Do you happen to be familiar with that name?”

The young Servant’s brow furrowed as she answered Ritsuka’s question, “No, I’m not. Wait, don’t tell me that shady jester pulled one over us!”

“Nnnnn goodness, I swear by the Gods that this humble priest would never! Master needed to ensure they would recruit a Caster of the highest caliber for their upcoming trials, so I simply aided with such,” a mesmerisingly familiar voice echoed from the shadows of the doorway as another new figure entered the room. Obsidian irises gleamed in the light as a toothy (were those fangs?) smile greeted you. “It has been too long, little apprentice.”

Your lips parted to gasp a name, but only silent air left you at first. There was something hauntingly off about the familiar figure, but there was no denying his identity.

“Master... Douman?”

Your eyes squinted as you appraised the other Servant before you. The magical energy you sensed was undeniably the same signature as your one and only master and teacher in life, yet there were idiosyncrasies that you could just feel. Something hidden beneath the surface, yet potent and writhing with dark intentions. It caused you to nervously grip the cloth that hung by your palms. You knew of your teacher’s less than savory actions in the last years of his life, but this foreboding energy was more than the petty grudge he had held due to his pride. As your scrutiny continued, the grin that stretched his expression slipped into what you thought was a sneer.

“A-Apprentice?” Mash’s surprised voice cut through the moment, diverting attention to her. “There’s no substantial record of Ashiya Douman taking on any disciples, and even so certainly none that left a record in history—that is! I mean, at least that we know of, so, um…”

Despite the young woman’s words, you laughed lightly. “That is all very true. Under normal circumstances, I would not be able to be called upon as a Servant due to my lack of impact, however, it seems someone has made… adjustments to my Spirit Origin and this Summoning Ritual.” Your gaze focused on your old master and caretaker, that nervous weight in your gut that something was simply off about him never leaving you.

“Well, yes, we did make this a particularly special Summoning Ritual to ensure we would summon someone of the Caster Class,” Da Vinci confirmed with a pout. “I can’t believe Ritsuka took this charlatan clown at his word though to let him handle the details and catalyst for who we would summon.”

Humanity’s last Master let out something between nervous laughter and choking on their own spit. “I mean, a great Caster that Ashiya Douman knew personally? We all thought it would be the same person, right?”

“I have to agree I jumped to conclusions as well…” Mash followed up.

Da Vinci grumbled, but acquiesced, “Well, I can’t argue with that.”

You sighed, but gave the group an understanding smile. “I believe I have a grasp on the situation now. You were all convinced that Master Douman would lead you to summoning Lord Abe no Seimei, is that correct?”

A few sheepish nods was the answer you received.

“While I am no Imperial Exorcist, I can assure you of my skills in this form. Whatever… additions Master made to the ritual seemed to have imbued me with more power than just my own,” you explained.

“I did see an odd pattern in your Spirit Origin in the Command Room before leaving,” Da Vinci interjected. “It was the same type of reading as the Shinjuku Servants.”

“So a composite Servant fused with a Phantom?” Mash asked.

“That would be correct,” you answered. “I happen to have inherited all of the knowledge and abilities of Yasumasa Hirai, if you are aware of that name.”

“You mean Abe no Seimei’s son from The Tale of the Capital?!” Ritsuka jumped in. “That was such a good series! The plot twists were so well developed and it’s super interesting how the author made you really think about what was the difference between good and evil!”

The human’s sudden enthusiasm caused you to take a step back in surprise and blink. As soon as they settled down, Ritsuka seemed to become overly aware of their own outburst as a blush started to colour their cheeks. A laugh bubbled in your throat and slipped between your sealed lips as you tried to stifle it.

“I’m quite happy to have my Master be so knowledgeable!” you complimented the young adult before ruffling their hair.

A squeak of a complaint left Ritsuka, but they gave a lopsided smile back at you.

“How rare for Fujimaru to be the one to explain something to us for once,” Da Vinci teased as she approached the two of you. “Now then, we should give you a tour of the facilities you’ll be able to use here.”

“If you would allow this humble priest, may I do the honours?”

All eyes landed on the Alter Ego in surprise as he made his request. That unnerving weight returned as you remembered your teacher’s presence, but perhaps some solitary time with him would help to answer why you felt so restless around him now.

“I would like to ask this of you as well, my Master,” you requested with a bow of your head.

“I mean, I don’t see an issue with it so sure. If you need anything, though, feel free to ask anyone you see,” Ritsuka complied with a hearty grin.

You smiled back as the group of you all exited the summoning room. Da Vinci waved goodbye to you as she dragged your new Master off for some sort of vitals check or another as Mash followed them. This left you alone with your former teacher and master in life who had not stopped watching you with a suspicious smile.

“Well then, shall we begin the tour?” he prodded.

“Who… No, what are you?” you immediately questioned.

The grin on Douman’s lips stretched.

“My oh my, you can tell? Well, I supposed I did essentially give you all of that disgusting Seimei’s knowledge and power, nnn. Consider me similar to yourself: a composite Servant, although my ingredients are more than Phantoms,” he explained.

Your brain immediately shifted through the vast information you had gained during your summoning and your eyes widened slightly as you figured out what the Alter Ego meant. You chewed your lip nervously until the exorcist let out a small chuckle.

“I assure you, this humble priest is, at his core, still Ashiya Douman. Rather, it is I, Ashiya no Hyoue Michitaru. I hoped you of all people would still recognise me, no, little apprentice?”

You bit back a flinch as the other Servant brushed his nails by your cheek to reach the back of your neck and lightly tap a fingertip dead centre there. Heat billowed in your body for a moment and your gaze drifted toward the floor in shame. No matter what the tales about him revealed, Douman was still the teacher and master you learnt from and respected. He had never harmed you nor brought you into his dispute with Abe no Seimei. Despite how well he had treated you in life, here you were doubting him. The cold weight in your gut churned into the bubbling concoction of guilt as you realised your transgressions.

“I beg your forgiveness, Lord Master!” you fervently pleaded as you bowed at the waist. “This unsuitable apprentice was lost to the very abilities you have bestowed upon me. No matter what Yasumasa Hirai’s thoughts are, I should know the truth in my heart!”

“All is pardoned, my dear disciple. How about we begin that tour now, hm?” Douman soothed you with a pat to your hair.

“Yes, Master!”

As you followed after to match the other Servant’s large strides, the heaviness in your stomach was replaced with a familiar fluttering warmth you could recall from your living days.

_ ‘Ah, as I thought. I still…’ _

The tour through the base was simple and informative. You probably spent more time listening to Douman’s tales of his life with Chaldea and fighting alongside Ritsuka. Though you took immediate notice of many other Servants avoiding the Alter Ego, you ignored it. This sort of treatment was nothing new to you who witnessed the Heian imperial courts. You knew your master’s reputation in the modern world, but if the exorcist himself wanted it to be different, he would attend to it so you paid it no spare mind. It was as you were conversing at the last stop of the command room adjacent to the summoning room from where you began that Ritsuka popped back up. The young Master wanted to prepare you for a trial run to see how you two would be able to fight together, so some strengthening was in order first.

You sighed and gulped air to prepare your gullet.

While the blazes and hellfires were a bit intimidating to get down at first, swallowing them soon became second nature as you felt your magical energy flowing better with each bite. Some of the various other items you strangely enough had to ingest were not as appetising. Although you did discover how delicious slurping down the flames of ghost lanterns was and the forbidden pages were easy enough to compact and chew through, your much preferred addition was being able to use the rainbow yarn to fashion more suitable clothes for yourself. It was, however, a bit disconcerting hearing the small Rider watching over your progress chant the word “chug” over and over. By the time Ritsuka’s twenty course meal was all consumed and done, you had to admit you felt to be in amazing condition.

“Shall we head out so I may prove my worth to you, my Master?” you asked with a grin.

Affirming with a nod and grin of their own, the two of you headed to the simulation room. Sure enough, spells and shikigami alike flew from your fingertips to take down the large, burning hands. Techniques and enchantments you would have never achieved in your lifetime channeled through your body like a familiar ghost possessing you. When you felt the discrepancies begin to take their toll, you took reprieve in your faithful mid-sized katana at your hip. The wakizashi had been your family’s combined gift to you upon Douman’s acceptance of your apprenticeship and it served you faithfully even in this second life. Soon enough, all of the materialised enemies had been cleared out by mostly your hand (you would have to find and possibly apologise to those other two Servants who were around only for a short while at the beginning).

“Was that enough of a trial run for you, my Master?” You hopped out of the simulation room with an energised skip to your step.

“Yeah! I mostly get how you fight now so I should be able to figure out some good teams to put you in soon. I didn’t expect an exorcist to also be using a blade, though,” Ritsuka commented.

“I’ve received similar inquiries numerous times in the past,” you sighed with a smile as your eyes downcast themselves. “Such an era was not kind and not every foe will fall to a spell.”

After your explanation, you received no response for a bit and looked back up. For whatever reason, Ritsuka was staring intently at your face and you felt yourself become a bit flustered at the attention.

“I-Is there something wrong?” you stammered out.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, you have dirt smudged on your cheek. I’ll get it, one sec,” the Master answered before using the fabric of their glove to wipe at your skin.

You withheld a wince at the rough material. Besides that, your mind was preoccupied with how close your Master now stood to you. If you shifted ever so slightly, your torsos would be pressed against one another. The thought buzzed in your head for but a moment before a new presence distracted your mind as the person who appeared behind you in your daze hooked their arms under your own. With a chuckle, they lifted you off the ground and effectively man handled you.

“Do excuse us, Master, but I wish to discuss my student’s condition with them. Seeing as they may be overwhelmed by all the knowledge bestowed upon them and whatnot,” Douman interjected with a lilt.

“Huh? Da Vinci can run a Spirit Origin check if you’re worried-”

“I beg your pardon, but it has more to do with the exorcist world of matters,” he cut Ritsuka off. “I assure you all will be well. Come along now, my dear disciple.”

Without another word edgewise, the Alter Ego carried you away by the strange interlocking of limbs. Certainly dazed from the chain of events, you were too confused to do much until you found yourself in an empty corridor of the personal quarters and back on your own two feet. This time, however, you were now caged against the wall by your teacher’s body as he loomed over you.

“I understand being captured by our Master’s brilliance, but be careful not to get dragged in,” Douman warned you with a small laugh lacing his words.

You blinked at the other Servant for a moment before you gasped in realisation. “I wasn’t quite thinking straight back there, you’re right. My gratitude for your care as always,” you thanked him.

“I trust you to be more attentive of your condition in the future,” the priest reprimanded you with a soft tap of his pointer finger to your forehead. “Though you may possess the magical energy and knowledge of great techniques now, take care as to not wear down your mind too much while processing everything.”

“I-I’ll be more careful from now on,” you acquiesced, a stutter slipping in as Douman lowered his face to hover directly over your own. “Um…”

With your stammering, the ever present smile on the Alter Ego’s face seemed to widen slightly. You shifted a bit in awkward waiting until your master’s left hand lowered to pick up your right with a light grip on your forearm. Before you could ask what he was doing, he guided your wrist to turn over and face upwards, allowing your layers of sleeves to slip down and expose your skin. The bright red of an open wound contrasted against your flesh as some blood had already dried at the edges, but the centre still welled with fresh life. Mesmerised, not unlike a trapped animal, you could only watch in embarrassed shock as Douman met the wound with his lips, skin softly pressing against skin before his warm tongue flicked out to give a faint lap of the wound. The reverb of his hushed laughter, so close you could feel it alongside hearing it, broke you out of your trance.

“You really must pay more attention,” he teased.

Without you realising it, his other hand had shifted to cup the back of your neck. A finger, once more, tapped on the dead centre of the column. The heat that boiled in your blood at such a small action felt suffocating yet invigorating.

“I don’t like my things breaking so easily,” Douman whispered, so softly you were not even sure you had truly heard it.

Before you could ask, the other Servant pulled away and gave you a couple pats on your head. A seemingly innocent smile tilted his lips that you could not help but focus on for a moment. Numbly, you nodded (to what, you were not even sure) in acquiesce before excusing yourself. Without any real conscience behind it, you managed to meander your way to your designated room courtesy of Ritsuka and Mash’s organisational efforts. The door slid open at your magical signature and you stumbled in before slumping on the bed in the corner. Curled into a flustered ball, you pressed your face as deep into your palms as you could manage in your numb state. You swore your mind was playing tricks on you and your traitorous heart was casting illusions on your common sense. Managing to unwind your body, you turned your face into your pillow next as you hugged the plushness in order to ground yourself. You slowed your breathing and counted to and down from ten in time with your inhales of air.

“Still your heart, empty your mind, and calm your soul,” you murmured your mantra into the pillow.

Focused on calming yourself, the mental fatigue of the day caught up with you faster than you expected and you soon drifted off into a light sleep in order to recuperate. You could catch snippets of conversations passing your room door. It was only a word or two that was clear enough, but the murmurs that made it to your ears were enough to remind you of the hushed whispers of court officials and courtesans. The landscape in your mind slowly faded from shades of wall white to birch beams and painted panels. Sparrows sung outside the sliding doors, but all you could view was the occasional shadow of a bird as it flew past. You were on doctor-mandated bedrest, but you could feel the itch in your fingers to practise spellcasting or anything to not lose that special touch that came with your years of practise. A quick glance around from where you sat told you the coast was clear. In as soft of a whisper as you could manage, you started to chant a spell and drew your pointer and middle finger through the air in the beginnings of a pentagram. As soon as you started, however, you were stopped by a harsh grip on your wrist effectively sealing your movements and jarring you out of your incantation.

“Your throat is in no condition to be practising spells,” Douman chided you as he lowered your hand to rest once more on the bedding.

You huffed at being caught and scowled at your instructor in silent resentment.

“The effects should wear off in another day, so be patient,” he reprimanded you as the paper shikigami that had been secretly watching you floated over to the priest’s grasp.

If you could have, you would have growled at the infernal spy.

“If you’re so determined to train, however, you can go back to painting seals on shikigami, nnn?” Douman offered with a wry smile to which you blanched and immediately dove under your covers to obediently rest.

The exorcist’s laughter filled your ears as the memory began to fade from your dream-ridden mind. Absently, you recalled you had come down with a loss of your voice during that incident. You were an exorcist in training at the capital of all places, though. Such ailments only struck those of your craft when one was unable to fend off the demons that spread sickness. You were certainly capable of defeating mere apparitions or other small aberrations. Curiously, your mind dug further back as to why you had lost your voice at that time.

Slowly, a chill crawled under your skin, prickling your nerves with pinpoint ice pricks of shivers. The soft sheets under your legs gave way to packed dirt and loose stone as the eroded walls of an earthen cave faded into existence around you. The robes and layers you usually wore to fight off the cold during this time of year had been partially shed and rendered your bare shoulders open to the frosty air. Your clothing was only lowered enough to leave access to your shoulder blades, but the bite of the chilled wind that made its way into the enclave still nipped at your slowly numbing body. You shifted slightly as a small piece of gravel dug into your shin.

“I don’t expect you to be a statue, but refrain from moving as much as possible,” the hushed voice of your teacher and master echoed off the stone walls.

Swallowing your nervousness, you gave a small “sorry” and adjusted yourself to be as comfortable as possible while kneeling on your legs. It felt like an eternity as you heard Douman handling various paper scrolls and bamboo containers behind you in the dim candle light. After however short or long he took, the priest eventually approached your docile form and crouched behind you. You could feel the silk of his sleeves brush the curve of your spine and you had to bite your lip to hold back the involuntary shiver. One of his hands hovered over the back of your neck—something you only knew because you could feel the warmth radiating from his skin to your own.

“When I begin, I need you to be as still as possible. I warned you before, but this might hurt a bit. Even so, this is another step in becoming a proper exorcist while learning under the greatest in the land, no?” your master laughed airily, the reverb ringing pleasantly in your ears.

There was no need to be scared or nervous, you reminded yourself. With a deep breath in and out, you gave your consent for Douman to begin the ritual. He began to chant in a low murmur, the words lost to your tense ears as you felt the hard tip of something sharp steady itself against the skin at the back of your neck. The edge pricked as you were sure blood welled as it dug into your skin just enough to leave a mark before, neither too slowly nor too swiftly, it dragged itself across your flesh. Each stroke was precise and even, damaging no more of your body than was necessary as the pentagram was engraved into the column of your neck. The pain was minimal enough to not be a bother, but it was noticeable to the point you knew it was real. You could feel the occasional breath from Douman softly billowing against your exposed wound as the heat of his hand never left from behind you. You almost jumped, in fact, when his other hand came to rest between your shoulder blades and you felt the tickle of energy transferring from his body to your own. Warmth bloomed where the fresh spell marking laid, but the heat travelled to the rest of your body in such a languid and tantalising fashion that you could not bite back the whimper that escaped you. You could feel the exorcist behind you twitch at your small noise, but the enchantment leaving his lips did not stutter. For how long you were not sure, you knelt on the sandy floor with your hands clenched above your knees and the sensation of your master intimately close behind you with his palm flat against your shoulder blades strained your alertness. Eventually, the spell came to an end as Douman recited the final syllables and the slight burn of the marking on your neck began to dull into an almost pleasant smoulder. His hand lingered on your back for a few tense seconds longer before he slowly removed it, the tips of his nails brushing the skin of your shoulder blades. Ritual clearly over, you twisted your head to look over your shoulder and at your master.

You panted slightly, unsure if it was from the exertion or something else that boiled in your blood. As your dilated pupils made eye contact with Douman, the obsidian glimmer of his irises seemed deeper than ever in the flickering light of the candles’ flames. As the two of you maintained your gazes, the priest raised a hand to his lips. There was something hanging through surface tension on the edge of a nail and, as your master lapped at the droplet of fluid with his tongue, you knew it was your blood drawn from the engraving of the spell.

The air that suddenly entered your dry throat stung as you gasped awake. The scratchy sensation ripped a coughing fit from your lungs and you rolled onto your side as you hacked into your elbow. Your mouth felt like the dry floor of the cave you were just dreaming of. Your head throbbed and the rest of your body ached. You tried to wince, only to feel the scratchiness of your vocal chords and grimace. Slowly, you sat up on the edge of your bed. Despite the slight burn of it, you could breathe again and tried to calm your racing mind and heart with timed inhales and exhales. When you felt like you could think again, you sat there for a moment before one of your hands raised to gently brush the back of your nape. You stiffened as you felt the raised scarring of a pentagram etched into your flesh. Idly, your fingers ran over it a few times as if to ascertain its existence before your arm dropped back to your side.

Thanks to your fusion with Yasumasa Hirai, you had gained all of his knowledge and essentially all of Abe no Seimei’s as well. Rather than accessing it like a book at your will, it always made itself present and known as if you had studied and retained the information on your own. It was reflexive and, as such, a few possibilities of what the spell marking on your neck was popped into your head and it made your body tense. What it was in reality, however, you couldn’t discern from your dream alone. You chewed the inside of your cheek as hesitance weighed your feet.

Your only choice to know the truth was to ask the original caster of the spell.

A ragged sigh slipped past your lips as you slowly stood from the bed. This was going to bother you too much to try to leave it until daytime (seeing as the clock in the room shone with numbers of the dead of the morning). Taking one more steady breath, you took the first step and the rest followed as you exited your room. You vaguely knew what direction the Alter Ego’s room was in, but you had to slow your gait and focus a bit to distinguish the various magical signatures at rest in each room. When you found the one energy identity that you could never forget, your feet stalled at the door and so did your raised hand. Reluctance and nervousness once again gripped your muscles, but you slowly pushed through until you made the barest of knocks on the metal door. You debated trying again as even you could barely hear the sound, but there was the muffled tapping of footsteps before the door slid open with a subtle whistle.  
“I was wondering who would call upon the devil at such an hour. Is something the matter, dear disciple?” Douman lilted upon seeing your most likely troubled face.

“I have… a question,” you mumbled, shifting on your feet as you felt exposed both being in the hall and under his gaze.

Not sure if to be thankful or nervous, the other Servant stepped aside for you to enter the room. You had a feeling that, rather than the safety of privacy, you were entering a beast’s lair instead. It was rare for you to be nervous around your old teacher even when you had first met and asked for his tutelage. You could get cold feet and feel anxiety, but you were driven if nothing else and it showed. So did, however, your rare hesitation. It was probably why Douman stayed by the entrance and refrained from speaking first as you took in his room. The base design was the same as your own, unfurnished one (albeit the bed was much larger), but you could clearly see your master’s tastes and interests littered about. From fresh shikigami to various scrolls that probably contained spells and curses, it was different yet made you feel like you were back in his space where you had originally studied. You felt some of the tension leave your shoulders at the smell of wet ink stones and candle smoke.

After a controlled breath, you turned around and addressed the other servant, “Um, Master Douman? There’s something I want to know about.”

“Oh? Pray tell, I’ve always done my best to answer your questions and that hasn’t changed. Though, nnnnn… it’s a wonder it’s something you don’t know with your current knowledge,” he mused as he paced the room a bit. “Just what could you be curious about, little apprentice?”

You gulped and your hand reached to the back of your neck to brush over the scar. Douman noticed the action and stopped in his shuffling.

“...Is it a curse?” you breathed.

The Alter Ego was silent for longer than you wanted to bear, but it affirmed your suspicions in your mind.

“Wh-Why? What did I do before to make you-”

“It is not a curse.”

You stopped in your advance on the other Servant you had started in your mild panic, now only a few steps away from him.

“Its original function of helping you channel your spells has long since been rendered inert, but I did imbue a bit of my own magical energy into the seal at that time. That connection is what allowed Master to be able to summon you. Nnn, you can think of it like a pet tag at this point,” he laughed at what may or may not have been a joke.

You gaped a silent “oh” at Douman for a moment before the implications of what he just said finally assembled in your mind. Your mouth closed immediately as embarrassed heat, both from your misjudgement and his teasing, flared in your body. The other exorcist continued to chuckle to himself for a bit before you joined him with a somewhat forced laugh of your own.

“Then… that makes you my “master” in more ways than one now, haha?” you tried to joke.

Those words caused the other servant to pause in his laughter. You worried for a moment that you had overstepped some sort of boundary before Douman held out a hand in front of you, palm up.

“Hand,” he commanded.

You looked between the outstretched appendage and his face a couple times. Your held tilted curiously, but you smiled at your master before obediently placing your hand in his own. This caused him to begin laughing with renewed amusement. You were a little embarrassed as soon as you realised what you had just done, but seeing Douman having honest fun made you feel it was worthwhile. As his laughter started to die down, the priest brought up his other hand to pat your cheek affectionately.

“Good job,” he teased.

As almost humiliating as the situation should have been, you only found yourself pleasantly buzzing at the praise. You nuzzled against his palm in appreciation. A hum left the exorcist before his hand slipped down from your face to press against your neck. When his fingertips brushed against the spellmark on the back of your neck, you felt that same jolting heat you had been feeling any other time he seemed to touch the area. Not expecting the influx of sensation, you let out a small gasp as your breath hitched. In spite of or perhaps because of your reaction, Douman let his digits skim over the scar a couple more times. While you felt your body burn uncontrollably with a flame you did not want to name, you could feel your master’s eyes watching your struggle.

“The neck is a very convenient place for managing one’s condition, you know?” he spoke airily, as if completely oblivious to the struggle he was tormenting you with as his fingers languidly tapped against the scar. The fire boiling your blood reached a point that you felt your legs about to give out and caused you to cling to the other Servant’s clothes in a desperate attempt at maintaining balance and face.

“Both magic circuits and the nervous system overlap generously in this area thus making it easy for the two to cross wires, so to speak.”

You were outright panting at this point. The Alter Ego’s hand that had been holding your own moved to wrap his arm around your waist and keep you from collapsing. Your head hung in both shame and fatigue. Still, slowly and torturously, a clawed digit tapped at the spellmark.

“Now, imagine, if one is able to stimulate the magic circuits within the neck, just how would that affect the physical body’s nervous system?”

Finally, he removed his hand from the column of your neck, but it was too little too late as heat spread through your whole body and the flames of sinful notions licked throughout the sinews of your being. Douman nudged your chin up with a loose fist so you were facing him once more. Whatever shadows would have danced in the candlelight were consumed by his onyx irises as a wide smile stretched his lips. Your cheeks brushed one another as he lowered his face to level with yours, side by side.

“How does it feel, my dear disciple?”

His saccharine words in your ear was the last straw that broke the dam you considered your dignity, causing you to moan softly and taper into a needy whimper. Your grip on his robes tugged in an attempt to bring him closer. Fire consumed your blood, yet you desired his warmth as well. The exorcist’s laugh rumbled lowly in his chest and it felt almost like a cat purring to your hazy senses.

“Now then, perhaps I’ve teased you too-hn!”

Before Douman could finish talking, your hands shot up from his clothes to grab at his hair instead. Without a second thought, you forced him to face you and clumsily crashed your lips together. There was no hesitation as you pressed your tongue past your master’s slightly parted lips and desperately drank him in to quell the fire in your veins. The other Servant hummed as your tongues met, his own hands raising to now cradle your face. Barely minding his fangs, you let yourself roam the Alter Ego’s mouth before deciding contact with his own wet muscle was the most effective at curtailing your body’s demands. Not having much direction in your actions though, you eventually found yourself tiring out and pulled away to regain your breath. Despite being the initiator, you found yourself clearly more flustered than your master who only smiled and licked his lips after the kiss. 

“You’re horrible, doing that on purpose,” you complained.

“Nn? Then I supposed I should take responsibility,” he countered.

With that statement, the priest lifted you into a horizontal carry before unceremoniously half-flinging you onto his bed. You yelped at the sudden rough handling and glared at your master once resituated, having almost bit your tongue during the landing.

“Why are you always like this! Ugh!” Distracted by your latest treatment, you flopped onto your back on the large bed with your limbs splayed and huffed to yourself. Not a modicum of remorse was expressed by Douman as he only laughed a bit before sitting on the bed’s edge beside you.

“And yet, you've always stayed by my side. So loyal you are,” he cooed as he combed a hand through your hair.

You grumbled and averted your gaze, trying to hide your embarrassment. The Alter Ego wanted none of that, however, and shifted from his ministrations to tilt your face back to him via a grasp on your chin. He chuckled at your defiant scowl, but your aggravation only lasted so long when the exorcist leant down and nipped your bottom lip. You let out a mix between a gasp and a squeak at the sudden sting, which was what the other Servant wanted as he captured your lips in another kiss. This time, Douman led you with his movements and you felt yourself relaxing into his pace. Despite what many knew of his hedonism and depravity, your master could be and often was very easy-going and patient. As such, his kiss was less carnal and more languid, the two of you taking your time to enjoy the sensations of the contact. You felt like the way the heat slowly burnt through your body would melt even your Spirit Origin, but you could not deny it as its own form of pleasure. When the Alter Ego finally had his fill for the moment, he let his tongue linger on your own before fully pulling away. Seeing the single string of mixed fluid that connected the two of you as he retreated sent a shiver down your spine.

"Aah, what a sight you are, my dear disciple. Nnnnn, so sweet," he lilted before his tone dipped dangerously (for your heart). "Shall I show you just how deep pleasure can run?"

"M-Master Douman?!" you managed to eek out in shock. "That's too much for t-teasing!"

"Nnn? Did I say it was a joke? I believe I mentioned taking responsibility earlier, did I not?" he mused with a hum.

"That's, um, er, I just—you!"

"Some say our lives as Servants are our second chances. It would be a shame to deny yourself with such an opportunity," the priest goaded you.

Your humanity demanded you stop risking everything you cherished about your relationship with your master, yet you were sorely tempted. His words were silver silk to your senses, promising all the things you had wanted in life. It was not like the Throne of Heroes gave you the time and memories to regret anyways, you reasoned. Even if it turned out to be a lie, this was your chance to experience that out of reach dream from when you were alive.

"...You'll take care of me until the very end, right?" you gauged, trying to disguise the plea.

Douman smiled and raised one of your hands to his lips.

"But of course. I promised you that on the first day I took you under my wing," he answered before pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

Taking a deep breath, you willed your body to relax before sitting up. With an obviously nervous touch and averted eyes, you scooted closer to your master and almost felt overwhelmed by the heat licking your flesh. Knowing it would do nothing, but feeling like it was appropriate anyways, you dematerialised most of your outer layers. The other Servant hummed in amusement before following suit and disrobing his entire upper half. Before you could react, the Alter Ego pulled you over by the waist until you were seated on his lap. A couple seconds of adjusting your position later, you were now pressed chest to chest with the exorcist as his obsidian irises sparked with mirth.

"Well…?" you egged on in your nervousness.

"Patience, little apprentice. Although, nnn, hearing you beg will also be a treat," he mused.

Before you could make any sort of remark, Douman kissed you once more. He started slow, letting you ease into the motion and helping you relax by massaging your waist where his hands had landed. His movements were languid and precise, focused on maximising contact with you and pulling you deeper into that dark abyss he called pleasure. You were admittedly being turned into putty thanks to the other Servant. While his kisses were not rough nor fast, his tongue dragged along your own in just the right way to make you physically melt and lean into him for support. Your arms wound over his shoulders and your hands grasped rather desperately at his hair. Not once did your master falter in his movements. At an unendingly even pace, he sucked and licked at your appendage with a clear goal of destroying your mental acuity. You hated to admit he was successful as you let out soft moans and pressed yourself against the other Servant to soak up as much sensation as possible. Without breaking stride, Douman swallowed your sounds and let out a few groans of his own in appreciation of your diligent efforts. His hands moved from your waist to your hips, rubbing small circles along the way and eventually settling on your thighs.

A hum left the priest before he pulled back from the kiss. You could not stop the disappointed whine that left your throat at his retreat, but the Alter Ego hushed you with a nip to your bottom lip before brushing a trail of kisses along your cheek and down to your neck. Without a second thought, you tilted your head to give him more access. The exorcist gave an appreciative suckle of your skin for your obedience and you whimpered as blood rushed through your veins. You felt his teeth graze your neck before he gave a teasing nip here and there.

"Master…!" you whined at his incessant playing.

Douman only hummed his usual noise before slowly letting his teeth press into your flesh. You gasped and urged him on by pushing against the back of his head. Gently, the Alter Ego kept testing your limits until he finally broke skin. You groaned as you could feel the hot sting of an injury, but the haze of your desire turned it into a pleasant sensation that only spurred you on to want more. Just how deep could he make you fall, you wondered.

The other Servant released the junction of your neck and shoulder before lapping at the small beads of welling blood. You mewled your appreciation, but your body was hardly tempered yet. Hoping to speed things up, you ground your hips into your master's lap. Douman barely even stuttered in his attention on your shoulders and clavicles, pleasure and pain blurring in those areas as he bit and sucked at his leisure. Before you could try to egg him on again, however, the priest's grip on your thighs tightened and prevented you from moving further. Just as you were about to complain verbally next, he retaliated with a controlled buck of his own hips, giving you a taste of that delicious friction you were craving.

"Aah!" you gasped at the sudden spike in contact.

"I told you to be patient, nn?" he chided.

"Master Douman, please," you whined in return.

The Alter Ego sighed. "Oh, what to do with you? Very well, I'll be forgiving tonight. First, you'll need to get rid of the rest of your clothes."

You were embarrassed at the notion, but having come this far you dematerialised your under layers without a complaint. Left exposed, you turned your head away as the other Servant surveyed your body.

"Ah, how enthralling. It's almost a pity what a mess you'll be soon enough," he commented with a light laugh.

The teasing heightened your embarrassment, but also your anticipation. The exorcist’s hands gave your legs one more squeeze before he hefted you back on the bed (thankfully much less haphazardly this time). Now naked on your back and caged under your teacher’s stature, your heart skipped a beat at the realisation that this was going further than you could have imagined. Douman hummed as his hands skated down your sides, enjoying the feel of your bare skin. Small shivers tickled your nerves whenever you felt the point of a nail casually graze your body. Starting at your collarbone, he kissed his way down to your left nipple before giving it an experimental lick. Your gasp being the desired reaction, the priest set about giving the area his full attention. He made sure to massage and tease its twin with a hand all the while before alternating methods eventually.

As much as you enjoyed your master’s affections, the tension between your legs was bothering you too much. You carded your fingers through locks of his hair to ground yourself, but could not control the instinct to lift your hips in search of satisfaction. As if oblivious, the other Servant made no reaction at your physical pleas. Instead, he simply moved on from your nipples to languidly nip and suck at the next expanse of unmarked flesh. No amount of groaning and silent begging (as your voice had since vacated due to your rising intoxication) could get the Alter Ego to move faster. You were left to desperately try to satiate yourself with his painstakingly self-paced foreplay while your lack of patience tortured you. When his mouth finally reached where you wanted it most, Douman paused to glance up at you and smirk as his only form of warning. When his warm tongue dragged along your sex, you gasped and arched your back. The pure gratification after being forced to wait for so long was a newfound high you realised you could never come back from. Moans spilled from you without shame as the priest sucked and even grazed his teeth along your sensitive flesh. His heat and attention never wavered as he kept your thighs open with a solid grasp. You were sure his nails would break skin, but you were long past the point of caring for such a small detail. Your muscles tightened as you felt the graceless pleasure building in your gut. Thoughtless pleas and praise of your master’s name left you. Function and alertness were all but lost as you let the blankness of euphoria consume you. A choked and stuttered groan was all you could manage as your hips bucked into your partner’s mouth and you felt your nerves spark as your body drowned in saccharine sensations. The exorcist let out a small hum of approval as you came, draining you for all you were worth. Even as the blankness of your mind began to clear, Douman did not pause and continued to lap at your overly sensitive sex.

“M-Master, wait…!” you tried to plead, but you were not sure he could even hear you with how hoarse your voice was.

“Oh dear, but if I must,” he surprisingly acquiesced.

He gave you one last teasing lick before relaxing his grip and neither of you paid any mind to the droplets of blood that slowly bloomed forth from where his nails had pierced. A small overrun of your climax clung to the edge of the Alter Ego’s mouth before his tongue swiped at the remains. A new fire sparked in your veins upon realising that he must have swallowed just about everything. Amidst your fluster, the priest used a hand to beckon forth one of his shikigami. The surprisingly strong paper doll carried a small bowl with it. Once delivered, the familiar burnt into nothingness and your attention was now on the container in the other Servant’s hand. When he offered it to you, you saw the dish contained a clear gel of sorts.

“Take some of this and prepare yourself,” your partner ordered.

“...While you watch?” you groaned, already feeling the embarrassment welling.

Douman laughed at your complaint and used his free hand to guide one of your own towards the bowl.

“I deserve a reward of some sort for earlier, do I not?” he bargained.

You wanted to protest, but you could not deny having been mostly on the receiving end alone so far. With a huff, you dipped two fingers in the viscous fluid and scooped it up before bringing it to your entrance. Hesitating just a bit, you looked up to find the exorcist watching you with a very much cattish smile. You swallowed your shame and pressed your lubed fingers against yourself. The temperature difference made you shudder a bit, but the slick did its job and you were soon able to slide the two digits into yourself. Closing your eyes to concentrate (and block out that smug bastard’s pretty face), you eased into a steady pace with your fingers and made sure to stretch yourself when possible. The drag of the appendages against your walls slowly lit that smouldering fire in your gut once more. With your vision cut, your imagination started to run its course as you managed to add a third digit. In your mind, what languidly pumped in and out of you was not your fingers, but your master. His body hovered over your own as he set a consistent cadence, leisurely but surely building the tension. Your other hand joined in to play with your most sensitive area and you let out a lengthy moan. The sound of your ministrations drowned out your awareness as you felt the pressure coiling inside of you. The image of Douman steadily fucking you continued to run rampant in your thoughts with your mental partner picking up speed as your climax approached. You felt yourself about to tip over until you gasped his name in reverie.

Just before you could come, your wrists were captured and your hands were forced away from yourself. You inhaled sharply as reality came rushing back and you found yourself pinned by your master as he panted just above you, naked body now pressed against your own.

“Oh my, dear, just how unfair can you be? Watching you was a delight in itself, but hearing you call my name at the same time? Nnnnn! It almost makes me jealous of your imagination!” The Alter Ego laughed at his own absurdity.

“It wasn’t on purpose,” you tried to defend yourself, though against what you were not quite sure.

Hearing your guilt, however, the other Servant gave you a kiss as a way of making peace. He freed your wrists in favour of cupping your cheeks so your hands found their way into your master’s hair, tugging lightly.

Separating soon after, Douman licked his lips and asked, “Are you ready?”

It was then that you realised he had finally shed his lower garments, having glanced down at the question. The priest’s cock hung freely, a shine from use of the earlier lube present. You swallowed, immediately knowing that he was more than what your fingers prepared you for, but you were not backing down now. Looking back up to give an affirmative nod, you did your best to put on a brave face and grounded yourself with your grip on the exorcist. With one hand lifting one of your legs for better access, Douman used his other to guide himself into you. The initial stretch was okay, but as the head widened to the full girth of his member, you inhaled sharply as you tried to will away the steady influx of pain. The Alter Ego hummed and nipped at your shoulders to distract you as he slowly pushed in. Soft murmurs of praise and encouragement left his lips, the words sounding dirtier to your aroused mind than they should have been.

“That’s it, you’re doing so well. Just keep breathing and you’ll take all of it in no time. Just like that,” the other Servant continued to whisper sweetly in your ear.

You pulled at the hair in your grip as you gasped your way through the discomfort. Soon enough though, your partner bottomed out and the feeling of him fully seated in you alone was making your head spin. You swallowed harshly as the pure sensation of it all made you salivate. Despite your obvious state of mind, it was not long before the priest began to pull back out. A gasp ripped from your throat as the thickness dragged along your inner walls and sent your nerves into overdrive. You were not sure if pleasure or pain was more prominent as everything overwhelmed you. When Douman laughed at your clear struggle, you realised that overstimulation was exactly what he wanted for you. An indignant remark or desperate plea, which you were not sure, but one or the other rested on the tip of your tongue before your teacher pushed back in sharply and you were rendered speechless. Your nerves sparked electric desire throughout your body against your will. The more friction you experienced, the hotter your blood burnt in an endless cycle of calling and receiving. You were not sure what sounds you were making anymore, but they seemed to only spur your partner on. As his pace picked up, you pulled harder at his hair. Douman moaned loudly in return and only tempted you to fall further.

“How is it, my dear? Don’t think about anything else and just let yourself enjoy it. There’s still so much more you can experience,” he panted in your ear.

If you could have fully processed his words, you might have been scared at just how much more you could possibly feel. The raw sensation of your master’s cock plunging into you unrelentingly was already enough to thoroughly fry your thought processes. His grips on your thigh and hip respectively prickled with the sting of his nails digging into your flesh, but the contrast only heightened your perception of physical rapture. The drag of each thrust was like steel striking flint. Every brush against your inner walls sparked embers of gratification that added to the bonfire in your gut. You called out for your teacher like a mantra, unsure if it was a plea to stop or for more. The heat of desire spread through your whole body, its flames scorching and licking every sinew of your being. You could feel it burn more intensely with each added movement and you were sweating from its overbearing warmth. When the pinnacle of your euphoria was within sight, you clung as close to the other Servant as you could in an attempt to ground yourself, but it was useless. As the fire burnt over and consumed itself in its own flaming fulfilment, your consciousness blanked. All you could register was hedonistic satisfaction like nothing else you had indulged in before. Like liquid gratification dousing the desire that scorched within, your climax washed over you in a wave of bliss. Your senses were fuzzy for more than a few moments as you were content to simply enjoy yourself, but your partner had other plans in mind. Feeling you tighten around him, Douman groaned and let his steady cadence falter into a sloppier rhythm as his own peak neared. Seeing you lose yourself to the pure sensation of your orgasm, the exorcist could do little to help himself as he sought to join you. To have thoroughly ruined you was more than he could have dreamed of before when serving in the capitol. Here you were now though, in his arms and willingly falling into the depths of his darkness. With a few more desperate thrusts, the Alter Ego tipped over the edge and released inside of you. He continued to pump in and out of you shallowly to prolong his climax, the movement causing a mess between the two of you.

By the time Douman more or less came down from his high, you had regained most of your lucidity. A tired groan left your lips as you nuzzled into the other Servant’s neck. The calm of coming down left you seeking warmth, much to his endearment. You sighed as the priest slowly pulled out, the squelching sounds making your neck warm a bit in embarrassment. All felt right with the world as your master’s arms encircled your waist.

Only for the exorcist to flip you onto your stomach and enter you once more from behind.

“M-Master Douman?” you gasped out in between struggling breaths.

The Alter Ego was already starting up a fast pace as he one-sidedly initiated another round.

“Don’t sound so surprised, little apprentice,” he cooed from behind you. “The real thing starts now!”

You wanted to protest or convince him to at least slow down, but with your hands pinned by each of his own and the other Servant’s weight resting atop you, there was little you could achieve. With far more energy and vigour than earlier, his thrusts were harsh and rapid. There was little care in his actions, only a carnal urge as your master sought something you could not perceive. His hips connected recklessly with your own as Douman’s earlier fluids leaked and now served as a second form of lubricant. You gasped desperately for each breath, your partner’s forceful rhythm straining your physical strength and making it hard to breathe in your overstimulated state. Your nerves screamed for rest, but the raw pleasure forced its way through your body and demanded your attention. It was like being jolted by an electric shock in rapid intervals as you twitched and flinched at the overwhelming sensations that ran rampant deep in your flesh. Everything ached yet felt so exquisitely blissful at the same time down to the marrow of your bones. Every time you tried to say something (be it a complaint or somehow a plea for more), your voice cracked and all that left your lips were guttural moans and breathless panting.

Just when you thought you were at your limit, the Alter Ego leant down and sank his teeth into the back of your neck.

A soundless scream left you in that moment. You could feel mana sparking your circuits and the pressure bled into your nervous system. The physical feeling was so intense that tears started to blur your vision as your body and mind battled between unadulterated pleasure and maintaining your lucidity.

Douman moaned as he tasted the blood he drew before removing himself and lapping at the wound, his hips never slowing in their cadence. Despite his mostly aimless thrusts, the pressure was rapidly building in both your bodies. His body pressed into your own as your fluids mixed, the bed sheets a mess from sweat and sex. The other Servant’s length continued to drag back and forth along your overly sensitive walls until you felt the tension in you snap and your climax was ripped from your gut to be scattered through the rest of your flesh. It felt like sparks igniting a wave of combustion before settling into a buzzing tingling sensation. You could feel your master press flush against you as warmth filled you from his own high. He released a drawn out, keening moan before calming down from his fervor.

Heavy breaths filled the room as both of you tried to recover from the previous intensity. Slowly, Douman removed himself from your person and pulled out. You groaned at the odd feeling of emptiness and strings of mixed lube and semen still connecting you for a moment. Remnants of pain prickled along your body and you were sure there were more than a few small wounds littering your lower half. Vision still a bit blurry from crying, you could make out the vague shape of another shikigami floating over with something for its master. Too tired to think about it, you closed your eyes and sighed. When soft tissue connected with your still sensitive sex, you yelped but were too worn out to move away. The exorcist chuckled at your reaction before effectively cleaning you up. You huffed, but mumbled a “thanks” as you curled into his large pillow. The other Servant hummed in reply before discarding the most likely ruined comforter on the floor and tucking the both of you into the single bed sheet. As if he had not just practically fucked you out of your mind, the Alter Ego wrapped an arm around your waist and tucked your head under his chin. The position radiated warmth and was, frankly, peak comfort after such an experience, but you were still a bit annoyed.

“I want an apology,” you complained.

“Nnn? For?” the absolute bastard replied lightly.

“You know what!” you retorted with indignation.

Your master laughed softly. “You act as if you didn’t enjoy yourself. Or was I not to your liking?”

“Master! That’s not it!” you sputtered back before letting out a groan. “Forget it.”

You could feel the rumble of his chest as Douman laughed once more.

“I do admit I lost myself there for a while. So I suggest you rest now, dear disciple. I believe our Master has work for you later,” he soothed as his fingers combed through your hair.

More than ready to rest, you let his ministrations lull you to sleep. As your breathing slowed, the priest lowered his hand to loosely cup your neck. His obsidian eyes watched you slumber peacefully and a smile tilted his lips.

“So sweet and loyal…” he murmured, fingertip brushing his spellmark on you just the slightest. “And with this, you will always be by my side.”

A spark of magical energy lit at the edge of Douman’s digit before transferring to the marking. He muttered a quick mantra and a small light emanated from your neck for a moment. You twitched in your sleep, but did not awaken. Satisfied, the exorcist snuggled into your form and rested with the sound mind that his binding ritual had been a success—not that you needed to know that.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! If anyone wants a place to talk more about reader inserts or somewhere to help fuel creative endeavours, I made a discord server with a friend to hopefully do both of those things. If you just want somewhere to chat about things though, FGO, other games, or anything really, feel free to drop by (18+ only)!
> 
> https://discord.gg/rx6SM2Q


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